1000 Deeds Undone
by Mako Red Eyes
Summary: Sometimes it doesn't matter how goodhearted you are. The world is cruel, even when you just saved it... A different edge on the postmeteor situation. Cid centric FINISHED.
1. 1

**DISCLAIMER! I don't own Cid Higwhind, or anything else from Final Fantasy Seven. Don't sue me, SquareEnix!**

**Rated R for language and violence. (rated on the high side to be careful)**

1000 Deeds Undone

_A million people crawl across the face of the planet each day, coming and going, and mostly not aware of the happenings around them. One could live in utter confidence, or terror, could fear or love one god or a dozen. Some believe the walk of life is only the beginning of a much greater journey, some believe they will finish where they started: oblivion. _

_It may truly be the path between that really matters… What one does while he is alive and well, and more importantly, what the world does unto him. Many people spend their whole life worrying about what will happen to them when they die, but the cold truth is, you won't know until it's too late…_

_Chapter One_

"SHIT! She's goin' down!" Cid was sweating bullets as the _Highwind,_ shook to pieces by the awesome power of the Lifestream and Holy clashing with Meteor, jolted suddenly, and pointed its nose down toward the seething planet below them. Even as he struggled with the failing controls, he swept up an intercom mike at his side, shouting into it.

"LISTEN UP EVERYBODY! This baby's GOIN' DOWN, and I ain't gunna be able to save her this time. I want everybody to GET THEIR ASSES off this ship in any way possible. I repeat. EMERGENCY EVACUATION, EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OFF OF MY SHIP!" Just saying the words made Cid's chest constrict, but they came out impressively cool and collected, even as warning lights began to flare, alarms going off through the entirety of the bridge as the _Highwind_ began to give up its grip on flight. The whole ship shook as something in its hindquarters exploded, and Cid winced as he got up from where he'd been thrown to the floor without even fully realizing it. He glanced around, cursing as most of his crew looked back at him expectantly from their posts. Not one of them had made a move to evacuate like he'd ordered.

Cid felt the blood rush from his face as dread overtook him. It was one thing if he went down. He had very little to go back to, but these men…most of them boys…They had families, wives, girlfriends, mothers… Dreams.

Cid's dream had been accomplished. He'd made it to space, and back again. He'd saved the world --at least he hoped he had-- and as he glanced out the giant circular window of the bridge, he saw by the white disks of parachutes floating downward towards the earth that his teammates from AVALANCHE had escaped to what was hopefully somewhere safer than where he himself stood.

Cid had no desire to die, and had every plan to bail out at the last moment, but only if he could get these kids off first. As his concern for their safety grew, so did his temper. He turned to them, eyes flashing, face red.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING STILL SITTING THERE LIKE FUCKING DUCKS?! GET YOUR GODDAMNED ASSES OFF THIS BIRD! SHE'S GUNN'A CRASH AND YOU'RE ALL GOING TO FUCKING DIE!" He was met with nothing but a series of passive smiles.

"You're not leaving, Captain." One particularly young man said, sapphire eyes shining up at Cid in a childish innocence that made the Captain's stomach churn.

"I'M NOT LEAVING BECAUSE I'M FUCKING WAITING TO MAKE SURE YOU'RE ALL OFF /FIRST/! NOW /GO!/" He screamed, voice breaking in its desperation. Still, nobody moved. "YOU WANNA MAKE ME A FUCKING MURDERER?!" He added, desperation growing. A few of his men shifted nervously at that.

The first man who'd spoken stood suddenly, moving across the trembling space between where he'd sat and Cid, eyes wide, but showing a depth that chilled Cid. The boy moved to an arm's length from Cid, and reached out, placing a warm slender palm on Cid's shoulder.

"Just go, Captain. This is our choice." Cid stood frozen, staring wide eyed into the young man's face --what was his name? Cid felt another surge of guilt as he realized he couldn't remember if he'd ever even asked -- even as the _Highwind_ broke again, another explosion nearly toppling Cid. He watched numbly, ears ringing, as the boy reached into his shirt, and pulled out a pair of dog tags. He yanked them up over his head, and handed the necklace to Cid. "Just in case I die, tell someone I did it honorably, okay?" He added deep eyes dark with courage.

That unfroze Cid.

"FUCK NO! NOBODY'S DIE'IN UNLESS THERE'S NO OTHER CHOICE!" Cid bellowed, not only to the boy in front of him, but to the others as well. "Now get off before I go 'n grab ya myself and /THROW/ you off!" That made a few of the lesser souls move, and begin to bustle about, but the _Highwind _shook one last time, and Cid felt his feet slide along the metallic deck as her nose tipped violently downward, rolling into a sideways dive. He let out a yelp as he and the blue-eyed boy began to slide, then go into free fall as the _Highwind's _descent increased to near vertical.

Ric, the young man who'd confronted Cid, was a quick thinker. And it was a good thing, because even as everyone else began to fall, the Captain included, he was quick enough to grab a secure purchase in one hand, and Cid's coat in the other. Outside the window that was now below him, Ric could see violent green flashes as the Lifestream boiled around the all to close to the ground airship. The ship shivered against the force of gravity, and Ric let out a yell as he hoisted Cid up, and, grabbing what he hoped to hell was a parachute, threw the both of them out a side hatch.

Cid gasped, his breath catching as his descent stopped suddenly, and changed direction as he was yanked backwards, then, much to his horror, chucked out into the wild blue. His mind was so scrambled with varying shades of fear, dread and terror, that it took him far too long to realize that the boy he'd been with had just rescued him from the doom of his airship. He felt an arm wrapped firmly around his waist, and a soft jolt as his descent towards the plains below him slowed. Cid was finally able to lift his head enough to look at the young man holding onto him. The young man smiled, as if the world had never nearly ended, but rather a pretty girl had just offered him a bunch of flowers. That is to say that perhaps he didn't entirely love the situation, but it was still well worth smiling over.

Cid was completely stunned by the sudden smile, and had to mentally kick himself to remember what was happening all around him. He tightened his grip around something he held firmly in his fist, until he realized it was the boy's dog tags. He'd somehow managed to hang onto them the whole time.

Cid jumped as a resounding crunching boom sounded not very far away. He felt a wave of heat pass over both of them as they drifted down towards the ground, and turned in time to see the last of the _Highwind's_ tail engulf itself in a gigantic plume of red-hot flames. The shades of red, white yellow and orange was a bizarre contrast to the shades of acidic green weaving itself through the sky as the Lifestream finally began to descend back down into the planet. He closed his eyes against the sight of the _Highwind's _demise, knowing that it was very unlikely that anyone else had made it off the ship. All those lives…Cid felt his stomach lurch and his throat close, and it was all he could do not to vomit right then and there. The boy holding onto him tightened his grip slightly, as if sensing Cid's distress.

"Hang on, Captain. This 'chute's supposed to only hold one man, we're probably going to hit the ground pretty rough…" Cid nodded, trying to do his best to support himself, bringing his legs into a crouching position, as did the other man, preparing for the shock of touching the now rapidly approaching ground.

Cid grunted as he and the blue-eyed boy were sent tumbling with the momentum of their fall, skidding to a halt in a heap a few yards away from where they had initially touched down.

Cid lay flat on his back, breathing for a moment and staring at the green and orange sky, eyes wide and unfocused in shock. He wasn't hurt, he could tell that much already, just winded, and emotionally battered. He finally sat up, taking a few slow, deep breaths to ease the ache in his chest and lungs, and looked around. The boy- he spared a glance down at the metal tags in his hand to check the name- Ric, was just sitting up as well. The kid must be alright…Cid glanced back down at the name. Ric McNeilian. Cid gave a small snort. What a name.

"Hey kid…you alright?" Cid asked when those same disturbingly piercing eyes turned to his. Cid watched as the boy winced before staggering to his feet. Gasping, Ric smiled crookedly, and nodded.

"Yeah, Sir. I'm fine. Are you alright yourself?" Cid frowned. He was just fine. His ass was a little sore, but he knew, just from that one wince he wasn't supposed to see, that his companion was /not/ alright.

"'M fine kid. But you sure as hell ain't. C'mere!" Cid growled. This kid was trying to be so brave and heroic, to be strong, but it was past the time for heroics.

Ric turned a few shades paler, and stared at Cid a moment, as if preparing to counter his order, but eventually, his gaze shifted, and he hobbled over to where Cid stood, head down.

"No more lie'n about yer health, alright?" Cid said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. "I'm glad yer brave, kid, but this ain't the time fer heroics. Lets just get home in one piece, alright?" Ric cast his eyes further towards the ground, nodding. "Now look at me, I need to check you out." Cid held back the weird feeling he got every time he met the kid's eyes, as he checked the dilation of his eyes, and the focus. "Can you breathe?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Eyes, hearing, all alright?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Alright… well, what'dja hurt?" Cid pressed. The kid would live, now he had to figure out why he was getting paler in shades with every breath he took.

"My leg, sir." Cid's jaw dropped as Ric answered, and he just couldn't help the short stream of profanities that escaped his lips.

"WHAT? And you walked all the hell the way over here?! Why'd you even get up?!"

"I'm fine, Sir." Ric insisted. Cid frowned.

"Like hell you are! Sit yer ass down."

"Captain, I'm /fine/." Ric insisted. His argument was getting weaker though, and Cid could see a clammy sheen forming on his pale forehead. Cid took a step foreword, so that he was nearly nose to nose with the kid, stormy eyes serious.

"Sit down." Ric held his ground. Cid had had it. In one quick, clean movement, he leaned into the thinner frame in front of him, setting the young man off balance, and hooked the back of Ric's thigh with his own, and set the boy in a swift but gentle descent.

Ric yelped as he fell, clutching at Cid's coat, but Cid held his weight, and Ric found himself laid out gently on the ground.

"I /said/ sit down. Now stay there!" Cid growled. Ric's eyes were wide and startled now, and he nodded lightly in obedience. "Now lessee yer leg.." Cid said, crouching at Ric's feet. Ric nodded, pulling his good leg away and leaving the injured one straight. Cid sighed, rolling up the young man's pant leg, and swore. "Shit! How the hell did you /walk/ on this?!" Cid cried, looking back up at Ric, who smiled weakly.

"Just wanted to keep up with you, sir." He said. Cid sat back, frowning. Who the hell was this kid, anyway?! Cid shook his head in mute dismay, and turned back to the oddly-twisted and bruised leg at his feet. He cast about a moment, checked his pockets, and eventually did three things in sequence: he stuffed Ric's tags in one pocket, withdrew a cigarette and lit it from another, and pulled out a restore materia from a third. Chomping down on his cigarette firmly, Cid lifted his eyes to meet Ric's. "Brace yerself, kid. This is gunna hurt like hell." Ric kept his gaze steady, eyes fixed on Cid's, nodding slowly.

Cid took another long draw off his smoke -he hated doing shit like this- before bracing his hands over Ric's broken shin.

"Okay, Kid…" Cid breathed, voice low. In one swift motion, he set the break. And winced, pinching his eyes shut and wishing his ears could do the same as Ric sat up with a scream of agony, grabbing at Cid's wrists. "Easy! Easy, Kid!" Cid shook the boy off of him, and grabbed his restore materia. A flare of green light, and Ric's screams faded as he fell back with a sigh of relief, panting.

Cid sat back, wiping his face with the back of his hand. Of all the military training he'd been taught, it was the medical skills he'd hoped he'd never have to use. He was just glad he had the healing powers of the planet behind his efforts. He watched as Ric sat back, closing his eerie eyes in exhaustion.

"Rest up for a bit, Ric." Cid said finally, patting the now mostly mended leg. "We're pretty safe where we are…"

"…Thanks…Captain…" There was that brave smile again.

"How old are ya, Kid?" Cid asked, settling into a slump near Ric.

"…Eighteen." Cid swore again. That was it? Eighteen? He really was just a kid….

"Shit…"

"I'm sorry, Sir…" Cid only swore again.

"It ain't you, kid… Jus' thinking…" Cid replied after a moment. Ric remained silent that time, falling asleep in his exhaustion. Cid sat quietly, waiting. He couldn't sleep. He wouldn't drop his guard in this time of danger, and there would have been no way his mind would have allowed him rest anyway. He turned his eyes to the south, where he could still see the wreckage of the _Highwind_ burning, and to the west, the dimming green-white glow of what was left of Midgar, up to the red-orange sky, then back to the sleeping boy at his feet. Two of the three, he had to force himself not to think about, because with both, came countless lives, spent and lost. He couldn't dare think about himself now. He didn't know where his friends were, if anyone had survived the crash besides himself and Ric. He didn't even know if they had won the war against Sephiroth yet. Somehow, it felt like he was still trapped in doomsday.

"Shit…"

OoOoO

AN: Yes, another one. Again, completely Cid-Centric. Beyond that, however, I'm hoping this will be entirely different from anything I've ever written on several levels... I just started writing this tonight, so updates will come as I write it, but I have this one throught all the way through to an end, so hopefully, it'll come smooth and steady to all you readers.

I don't want to say too much about this yet, except not to get any weird ideas about Ric. He's an OC of mine, and acts as a catalyst in this fic, but nothing more. Sorry to you Yaoi fanatics, no romance in this one. (cries) lol. :)

Also, the rating may change on this... the first chapter in, I'm not sure where its going to go, but at this point, the rating is simply for Cid's colorful language, but I may be able to mellow it... I don't know. (shrugs) so if it moves, that's why.


	2. 2

_Its considered to be a person's duty to do their very best in life, so that they might have the chance to pass on to something greater. Still, there is always the lone soul who has to stop and wonder, is it worth of it?_

_Chapter Two_

Ric sat up slowly, blinking into the fading sunlight overhead, and grimaced. He'd slept a /long/ time, far more than he should have.

The Captain still sat in the grass at his feet, back turned to him, eyes fixed on the fading bellow of smoke that marked where the _Highwind_ had struck the planet. He gave no signal in movement nor sound that he was aware of Ric's awakening, and the young man took the moment to watch Cid in profile.

Cid Highwind, the world's finest pilot, master of the fallen airship, the skies, and Ric's own dreams.

Ric was a full two inches taller than Cid, but he still looked up to the older man. Cid Highwind was his hero, his idol. He held in his heart a strange fixation to his Captain, one that left him with strange dreams in the night, or long moments where he couldn't take his eyes off of him. Ric spent his days positioned carefully so that he could watch Cid move about the bridge, hear every word he said. He had learned to read his superior in a way that only came with the deepest familiarity. He had discovered that Cid wasn't the cold, angry man he made himself out to be, but a vibrant, expressive person, sharp as a razor. It was the young, inexperienced people like Ric himself, that led Cid to cursing and yelling and screaming. Ric imagined that if Cid were to find someone to match his own intelligence, that he could be an incredibly amiable person.

Now, Ric watched as Cid lifted his chin, turning his eyes skyward again. The creepy orange glow left over from Meteor had faded, and the sky held a more acceptable hue of dark purple as the sun set. He smiled. The stars would come out soon. He knew as well as anyone how much Cid loved the stars.

As if sensing his eyes on him, Cid turned to look back at Ric.

"Oh, yer awake…" He commented, turning in his seat to face Ric more completely. Ric gave him a shy smile.

"Yeah… Sorry I slept so long, Sir." Cid frowned. The way this kid talked to him, he'd be changing his first name to "Sir" and his middle to "Cid" at this rate.

"'S fine, Kid. If ya slept that long, its 'cause you needed it." Cid answered. "The world's holdin' its breath right now. This might be the last chance we get fer a little rest fer a while…" He added, noting inwardly how those eerily piercing eyes were fixed on him again.

"Thank you, Captain." Cid snorted.

" Name's Cid. My ship's dead, I ain't a captain anymore. Jus' Cid, now, got it?"

"Mr. Highwind?" Ric asked. He couldn't perceive something as close as being on a first-name basis with the Captain. Cid laughed.

"Do I look /that/ old to ya, Kid?" He growled, tilting his head to give Ric a sideways look. Ric blanched.

"No!"

"Then just call me Cid. Just Cid!" Cid couldn't help but smile a little as he saw Ric visibly struggle with the concept. He chuckled softly. "Oh, c'mon, Kid, I ain't that fucking special." He added. Ric's unusual eyes widened for a moment.

"Aah--!" Ric began to flounder, and Cid decided to spare him.

"Where ya from, Ric?" Cid asked suddenly. Ric's mouth snapped shut and he thought on that. He knows my name…

"Uh… Junon, Si--aah… Sorry."

"No sweat. Junon, huh? Not too far from home then. Can probably get there in a few days if yer leg's alright." Cid glanced back at the boy at his side, but Ric had gone strangely silent. "You okay?" He added after a moment. Ric looked up, eyes suddenly pale.

"I can't go back there…" Cid raised an eyebrow in silent questioning. "I haven't been able to get a hold of anyone in my family… I think they all died when that Sea-Weapon attacked…" Cid nodded solemnly.

"I'm sorry to hear that…" He paused, thinking. "Look, I gotta head towards Junon to get my sorry ass overseas anyway…if we get there 'n you can't find yer family, you're welcome ta tag along 's far as you want, alright?" Cid watched in amusement as Ric's eyes widened with restrained excitement.

"Y-you don't mind?" Cid smiled weakly.

"I don't mind…. So long as you don't fucking try to pull any more crazy shit like ya did on the ship and with yer goddamned broken leg!" Ric's face lit up.

"Thank you Sir!" Cid gasped as Ric leapt foreword, throwing his arms around Cid's shoulders in an awkward bear hug. Cid wasn't exactly the type of person many people hugged. Most people took him as rather prickly, but here was this kid, who obviously should had known better, with his face buried against Cid's collarbone. Stiffly, feeling incredibly awkward, Cid raised a hand to pat the boy's back.

Ric pulled back suddenly, face red, eyes wide.

"Aah--S-sorry!" He stammered, for the first time, not willing to meet Cid's eyes. Cid sighed, reaching foreword to give the kid's hand a squeeze before waving it off.

"Yeah, yeah. Just quit callin' me 'Sir'."

Ric sat staring wide-eyed as Cid shrugged off his slip of composure. It had felt wonderful to hug the pilot, if only to feel that /yes/, Cid Highwind was /real/. Ric swore he wasn't gay. The attraction he had for Cid wasn't that sort of thing, but more of maybe a close uncle or father figure.

And Cid seemed to realize that, even if it /did/ obviously freak him out. Ric felt all the fear he'd held bottled up for days since before Avalanche's showdown with Sephiroth, drain away as Cid gave his hand a small, reinforcing squeeze. He smiled gratefully at Cid, but mentally swore he wouldn't hug the man again. Ric was as startled by his own actions as Cid was.

"You alright to walk?" Cid asked suddenly into the silence that had begun to stretch between them. Ric paused, honestly thinking on this. He shifted.

"I think so… My leg feels fine…" He carefully crawled to his feet, shifting his weight carefully onto what had been his injured leg. He bounced on it lightly, then grinned down at Cid who was still sitting there, watching him. "Yeah, I think I'm fine…" Ric concluded after a moment. Cid nodded, grunting as he climbed to his feet.

"Good…I don't want to be around here any longer…" Cid admitted. A strange feeling had begun to crawl up the back of his spine in the time between his last burst of broken conversation, and he had the weirdest urge to get the hell away from where he was now.

If Cid hadn't learned to trust those weird gut feelings, he would have been dead a good decade ago.

"Yeah…" Ric agreed, stepping a little closer to Cid. He watched the young man absently brush his hip, perhaps looking for a gun or some other hidden weapon. Apparently it wasn't there, because he saw Ric's eyes dart in the fading light for a moment.

"Come on, this way…" Cid headed off at a quick pace, heading away from Midgar. That feeling was getting stronger, and he realized with no small amount of alarm that he too was without any more of a weapon except for a small hand knife he kept in his boot. Cid shifted his ankle as he walked, checking to make sure the thing was still there. He felt a hard lump bite against his ankle, and he gave a mental sigh. Good, well, at least that's okay…

Beside him, Ric seemed like he might be struggling slightly to keep up with Cid's quick pace, but Cid held strong, and Ric didn't complain.

They walked the entirety of the night, and well into the morning before both had finally slowed to a stop, needing rest.

Ric flopped to the ground as soon as Cid had conceded to stop, sitting cross-legged and glancing around. Cid remained standing for a moment, assessing their location. They had made good time in their hurry, and if they kept up their pace, the could make it to Junon by as early as dawn the next day.

Still, Cid shifted nervously. That eerie feeling had not faded, and he'd already concluded that it wasn't coming from Ric again. The boy had relaxed around Cid suddenly, and Cid no longer felt the piercing long stares that he had at first. They had occasionally talked in low whispers throughout the night, and Cid had found an admirable amount of intelligence in the kid, and was now developing loose plans to take him back to Rocket Town with him, Ric as his protégé.

Cid let out a low growl.

"Come on, Ric… Shit, I think something's stalking us… We gotta make tracks, Kid." Ric let out a small sound of complaint, but crawled back to his feet, nodding. "If we hurry, we can probably make it to safety in Junon…" Ric was at his side, matching his even faster pace, in a heartbeat, and neither said a word as they hurried on, both men looking about as they walked, searching for the invisible force that had left them both so nervous.

By nightfall, both were running. The entity that had followed them all this distance had revealed itself as a hulking shadow of a monster at least twice Cid's height, and just as wide, with spines, and lots of them. It moved relatively slowly, but still quicker than their actual walking pace. It had apparently spent the whole days' time before sizing them up, and had picked up speed once the sun had set, moving in for the kill.

Cid swore under his breath as he picked up speed, now holding onto Ric's arm as he dragged the boy with him. Ahead, he could see the city gates to Junon, only a few hundred meters off. Behind them, the beast was gaining on them, only a few dozen meters away. It was as if it had been able to sense when they had both crossed that vital point of exhaustion, and had doubled its speed. What had been a relatively light jog had turned into a mad dash for life. Cid felt his knife clunk lightly in his boot, but he knew that that little four-inch blade would do jack shit to something twelve feet tall and snarling.

Beside him, Ric stumbled, gasping. Cid grunted, yanking him back to his feet before he had a chance to fall, and with a pained sound, Ric staggered on, still running, occasionally glancing behind them.

It was as Ric chanced a look over his shoulder for the fifth time that Cid heard the thundering footfalls behind them cease, and looked over his own shoulder to see the monster not running on the ground behind them, but in mid-leap /over them/.

With a violent curse, he threw Ric to the ground, and then followed, throwing himself over the younger, wincing for impact.

The monster managed to overshoot them, and it had to run several dozen yards just to turn its hulking self around again to return its charge.

Still, now Cid and Ric were cut off from their destination. Both men climbed to their feet, stances low and wary. The monster turned, snarling, and crouched to pounce again. Cid snatched the knife out of his boot, a rather desperate plan working through his head. Ric shifted beside him.

"Cid, what are you doing?"

"Gunna try somethin', Kid." Cid growled, crouching even as the monster lunged foreword. "Stay back!" He added before leaping into the air.

Ric watched in awe as Cid practically took flight, soaring over the monster's head, and twisting his body into a dive, the tiny knife poised in a shot clean over the monster's head plate. The blow struck, and the monster screamed, batting violently at Cid with one giant paw as the pilot leapt away. A row of sharp talons caught Cid's back, felling him in mid leap. Cid dropped to the ground heavily in a heap and the monster turned, growling.

"CID!" Ric screamed, dashing foreword even as the monster loomed over Cid's now shifting body. Cid was getting up, but not quick enough. The monster raised it's paw again, and Ric dove, covering Cid's body with his own at the last moment.

Ric took the full brunt of the blow as it shattered his spine, ripping his back open raw to the world, but he swallowed his scream.

Cid did scream, though. The rough cry of Ric's name, sharp and hurt in the night, filling Cid with enough fury to lunge up into the air again, retrieving his knife and making another slash from eye to ear in the monster's head. It screamed again, thrashing, but fell this time. Cid crouched on its shoulder, panting, an dropped his shoulders as it began to rain, smearing the grime he'd collected from his battle with Sephiroth, the death of the _Highwind, _and now this… Slowly, as the monster wheezed its last breath, Cid climbed down to the muddy ground below, crawling back to Ric.

Cid swore softly as he tried to help the young man sit up. Ric was shivering harshly, his teeth chattering, eyes unfocused. Cid pushed his hair back out of his face. If Cloud's hair didn't stick straight up in the air, and was a darker, richer shade of chocolate brown, it would be just like Ric's. Everywhere. Ric twisted, wincing, and tried to look up at Cid.

"Y-you o-okay…?" He managed softly, coughing. Cid clamped his eyes shut again for a moment.

"'m fine, Kid. Hang on." He pulled out his restore materia again, focused all his energy into the spell. Green light flared in the dark. Ric gave a small cry, gasping, hand coming up to grip Cid's coat and sitting up partially, before collapsing back into the mud. Cid swore. "Shit, Ric… Ric?"

Ric gave Cid that same brave smile yet again, then coughed.

"Didn't…work…"

"The hell, it didn't! Hang on, Ric." Cid said again. He knew he risked burning himself out, casting the same powerful spell so many times, but at this point, Cid frankly didn't give a shit. Green light flared again, and he felt his energy drain away as if a plug had been pulled. Gasping, Cid had to drop the spell, but only moved to try it again, maybe at a lower level…

"Cid, don't." Ric caught his hand, pushing it away.

"Ric, yer gunna di-"

"I know, Cid. It's alright." Cid's face drew itself up in emotional pain.

"NO! No, its NOT alright, damn it! Yer not gunna fucking die on /my/ watch!" Ric chuckled softly, then coughed again. Cid had some pretty crappy night vision, but he could still see the blood trickling from the boy's lips.

"You know-" Ric began, and Cid held back a miserable groan. No. Not this. No confessions…please, Kid… don't…"ShinRa only hired me because I wouldn't leave them alone. Said I was too wet behind the ears to work on something as special as the _Highwind _but I wouldn't give up… The other guys, they used to talk about ya… a lot of times in some sort of fear, but always good things. …Never thought I'd actually get to meet you, though… Not in person…" Cid looked away, felt his chest pinching down to what felt like half its natural size. He could hardly breathe, and he had to swallow a choked sound of his own. Stop… please, Kid…"I know the days have been..well…shit, recently, but you made it worth it for me…" Another, violent cough. "..Thanks…Captain…High…wind…" Ric sat back, going quiet. Cid gasped, lunging foreword to shake the boy.

"Ric? Kid? /Kid/?!?" Cid shook him by the shoulders again, slapped his face lightly, cast Restore until he nearly passed out, but nothing worked. Ric McNeilian had just died at his feet, eighteen and too consumed by hero worship to even have the brains to save his own ass. Cid choked. Damn it… You said you weren't gunna pull anymore crazy-ass stunts…Had this boy really just died saving Cid's life? Cid wasn't even sure of that. Had he been on his own, he might have done things differently, or he may have died just as horribly- body torn and broken in two, with only the stars as witnesses. Cid sat back in the mud, burying his face in his hands, ignoring the gore and filth coating them, giving a low, mournful moan. I told you… you wouldn't be able to keep taggin' along if you did somethin' crazy… I…..told…Cid's thoughts faded away to sheer thoughtless grief as the intensity of the rain falling all around him grew steadily.

Beside him, Ric lay forever staring up to the stars, a faint, starry half-smile gracing his lips, even in death.

OoOoO

AN: Okay, so I usually wouldn't update this fast, I felt just one chapter wasn't enough to get this bird in the air, you might say, so, here's another one. Yeah, I'm still just warmin' up my angst skills here. Bear with me, and hopefully, it'll turn out okay...

1)World's shortest lifespan of an OC. . Another title for this story might have been "Cid and Ric's Bogus Adventure"

But then again, Ric's dead, so there's not much of an 'and Ric' part to this story, is there? Maybe instead, "Cid's Shitty Day"? But those almost sound funnny, don't they?

2) This wasn't supposed to be Shonen-ai. Ric was compared to Cloud for a reason - another victim of Hero Worship. That and someone has to have the balls to give our poor prickley Captain a hug... He's gunna need it. . 

3) Oh yeah, was that a cliche' enough death for everybody? lol. Yay, officially, as a writier, I'm a murderer now. Yep, that's the first one I whacked. I didn't even ever get around to killing off that nasty old InnKeeper from New Life . 

4) And to think I haven't managed to get myself depressed yet... (its the prozac )


	3. 3

_An old friend… I think a friend, maybe just an acquaintance, maybe an enemy, I don't remember now…. Someone, said to me once, 'This is as bad as it gets… But don't bet on it.' Gee. Thanks for the warning. People seem to think that our destinies lie set for us, but I never believed in any of that. You go where your feet take you, otherwise, you make the idiotic choice to let someone else lead you wherever they want. I wish more people knew that…_

_Chapter Three_

Dawn came, and Cid found himself still sitting in the rain and the mud, staring brokenly down at the body beside him. He was dully aware of his own severe-enough injuries, but he just couldn't take his eyes off the gore before him. Ric had been worse off than Cid had guessed the night before. He was twisted oddly on the ground, his shoulders and chest mostly pointed towards the sky, his hips rolled over almost flat on the ground. His eyes were open, still seeming to be fixed upon Cid, the grass below him stained crimson, even after the ongoing rain. Cid dragged his eyes away from the corpse, feeling unclean.

He felt not only as though he was a murderer for allowing Ric's death, but almost as if he'd somehow managed to rape the boy as well. Someone as full of innocence and dreams as Ric should not have been allowed to look up to someone with as dark and blood-drenched of a soul as he.

Maybe, just maybe, if he'd not decided to humor the kid, and been as icy and callous with him as he had been with everyone else, perhaps Ric would have survived.

Cid stood abruptly, nearly slipping and falling in the slick mud, and turned towards Junon, walking quickly.

Damn… It didn't take him ten minutes to reach the town gates… Another few minutes running, and they would have /both/ made it. Cid snarled, punching the wall viciously, causing his fingers to crack and his knuckles to bleed, even with the heavy leather work gloves he still wore.

Cid glanced down at his glove-clad hands and snarled again, yanking the soiled, blood-drenched things off and viciously throwing them back in the direction he'd come. It wasn't their fault, of course, it was his, that an innocent had died last night, but Cid knew he couldn't deal with that reality yet. He shut the pain and dread and hurt away inside of him, simply pretending to cast it all away, along with the blame, with those gloves now lying lifeless in the mud behind him.

Just like Ric…Cid pushed his eyes shut against the mental image of the broken body, and, ducking his head low, slipped through the unguarded gates into town.

A day later, Cid stood at the bow of the nautical transport that carried himself and dozens of other passengers, to the next continent.

Leaning precariously on the old corroded railing, Cid stared down into the gray waters below. He was alone where he stood: It was still pouring rain, and all the sensible souls were inside their cabins, waiting for the finer weather of Costa Del Sol. He didn't care that he was shivering and frozen to the bone. Elsewhere, people were /dead/, because of him. Oh no, not just Ric -Cid had been able to pretend at first, imagine that the rest of his crew had made it out before the _Highwind_ connected with the cruel planet - no, literally dozens of lives had been laid out in his open palms, and what did he do? Left them to the winds of fate, where they were blown away to certain doom.

He should at least have gone down with them.

Cid stared down into the frigid ocean waters, heaving irritably only a few meters below, gray and dark and almost frozen. All he needed to do would be to lean out just a little further than he already was… A splash, the biting cold, and perhaps a few minutes of fear -perhaps not - and two and a half minutes later, it would all be over.

The rain faded away, replaced by a strong, cold wind, tugging at Cid's open jacket and light shirt. His scarf tugged at his neck like a noose. With the movement of his clothing, however, Cid managed to pick up a tiny sound over the low howl of the wind and the crash of the ocean.

A single, light metallic clink, like an injured bell, right at his chest. Grunting, Cid glanced down at himself, and realized belatedly that what he had heard was the sound of the wind tugging at his dog tags, causing to collide softly with a second pair… Ric's. Cid had boarded the ship only to crawl into his cabin, where he had then nearly torn his jacket apart in search of a smoke. He'd found his cigarettes, intact, albeit soggy, eventually, but he'd found Ric's tags, first.

_Just in case I die, tell someone I did it honorably, okay?_

Those words would haunt Cid forever. Just in case? Did Ric somehow already know of his fate? Did he /want/ to die? Maybe that notion should have been some sort of delusional comfort to Cid, but it wasn't.

He'd kept the tags in memory of someone who'd saved his life twice, only to die a horrible, painful death because of it…

Cid swallowed as that same ache in his chest snapped him back to reality, and he stuffed both chains under his shirt roughly, letting the cold metal sting his bare skin for a moment, an invisible brand against him. Shivering, Cid returned his gaze to the churning water below. So easy… so…simple and painless…really…

But would it really be any better than all of this? He'd always believed that giving up in a fight was signing your own death sentence… This was the same, wasn't it? Giving up. Suicide. He'd burn in hell for it.

Not that he wasn't going to burn in hell anyway… And honestly, not that he didn't feel like maybe he /had/ already died, and /was/ in hell. Cid wished he could be like some people, and not believe in hell or damnation at all. Then maybe, he'd have nothing left to fear. Except maybe himself. That was the scariest thing at all. That after all that gore and violence, all his life, he was still sane from it, only depressed after even the worst.

He really was one sick bastard.

Cid snorted lightly as he began to wonder what would happen to the poor soul that eventually found the body, just outside of Junon. Nobody would think to look for a murderer when it had been clear a monster attack had occurred.

Shame, really. Idiots, so naïve and clueless. Murder, all of it. Hell, he even just helped in murdering the world's top military general.

At least he had something of an excuse, for that.

Turning on his heel, Cid finally gave up on contemplating a watery grave, and went back into his private cabin. They'd be reaching the more tropical region of Costa Del Sol, soon, and Cid didn't really want to be a part of all that just now.

The weather was as warm and bright as it always was in Costa Del Sol, and while Cid seemed to have brought the foul weather of Junon with him, nobody else seemed to notice. While the storm clouds poured misery and grief over Cid's head, the rest of the world wore sunshine. A battle had been won, the world was saved.

It was time to celebrate.

The entirety of the resort town was one big party, literally. Every door was open and the sound of raucous music, laughter and the smells of good food and liquor poured out of them. People on the streets, the beach, even the rooftops were dancing and having a good time.

Cid walked invisible through the town, like a ghost. A ghost of the man he once was: a warrior, an engineer, pilot. The Captain. And to some, those poor, defenseless few, a hero.

Cid skirted as much of the festivities as he could, neither wanting to be noticed, nor be a part of such celebrations. He wondered how these revelers would react if held up a shop, stole some cardboard, cord and red paint, and hung a giant sign that read "Killer" around his neck.

They probably wouldn't notice, nor care. Meteor was gone. Holy had saved the world, hadn't it? The Planet had fought back to save its people.

It dawned on Cid that very few knew what had really happened. From what he could remember, ShinRa had been taking credit for all the hard work he and his friends had done.

Which, of course, was typical.

Feeling anti-social and alienated amongst the celebrations, Cid hurried straight through Costa Del Sol as soon as the boat he'd taken across the ocean landed, and didn't pause for rest until he'd left the region.

The mountains leading through to North Corel were littered with little caves all along the dangerous path leading deeper Northwest, and Cid only paused to take a breather from his journey when he reached the first of them.

Spending the night in a cave wasn't all that bad. Not after mud and rain and blood. Cid briefly considered just staying there, or perhaps climbing deeper into the mountains and finding a more remote cave, and never coming out again. It might, that way, save lives, at least. Still, Cid was tired, beaten, battered and beginning to grow hungry. He hadn't eaten more than a granola bar since the crash four days ago. Cid was strong though, and he knew that he had a while before such eating habits, or lack thereof, would become detrimental to his well-being. Nonetheless, he was ready to be home. He would settle down, go out and find the _Tiny Bronco_, bring it home and fix it up, and once he was back in the air, Cid swore he would never come down, again. In fact, perhaps he would just fly away into oblivion, never to bee seen or heard again.

Cid risked himself a small smile at that. It really sounded wonderful. Yes. He would fix the _Bronco, _and one morning rise with the sun, fly away into a sky of gold and sapphires and never return. Cid fell asleep to that thought, content to dream of living the rest of his days letting the sky and wind take him wherever it pleased. For a short while, he didn't worry about all the marks on his record, his tarnished soul, or even that the ground upon which he slept was both very hard, and cold. He simply slept.

However, with sleep, often comes dreams, especially in times of emotional stress. Cid had lived a rough life, one where he had seen wars fought, lives lost, and dreams crushed. Still, all that and more could never prepare a man for his own nightmares. The human mind has a sneaky way of digging deep within your soul to find just what terrifies you the most, and then twist it into dark shadows of what it had been, both making it unrecognizable, but also a hundred times more frightening.

Cid shifted and groaned on his granite and limestone bed, whimpering weakly as a single specter assaulted him in his sleep. Cid could clearly make out hands -the figure of a man- which snaked out of the darkness, reaching out to wrap coldly around his throat, slowly squeezing the life out of him. Cid gasped and cried, begging for release, and slowly, a face began to form out of the shadows as well, leaning in so that Cid could stare wide-eyed into a haunting pair of cold, midnight blue eyes.

The terror of seeing a dead man walking took the what little breath Cid still had away, and he choked, trying to backpedal away from the boy he'd killed. Ric smirked, and tightened his grip.

Cid sat bolt upright with a scream that echoed throughout the cave, and sent birds scattering outside, fleeing to safer, quieter regions. Cid sat, breath heaving, eyes wide and unblinking. He shook head to toe, teeth chattering. A bare hand to his throat and Cid could remember the phantom-feeling of dreaming he was being choked. It had seemed so real… So real. Cid wiped his clammy face off with both hands, letting out a small, shaky sigh. The sun was up now, and there was no point in him going back to sleep.

Cid tried to shake the fright of the dream off, promising himself that it wasn't real. Of course it wasn't real. But his own conscience was. It wasn't Ric out to get Cid. It was Cid, strangling himself from the inside out.

_Never thought I'd actually get to meet you… Not in person…_

Cid closed his eyes, and let go a simple, silent prayer that Ric would rest in peace, and find some place brighter than the world he'd left.

After a moment, Cid adjusted the chains around his neck, which had twisted slightly, now hanging coldly down his back instead of his chest, in the night, stood, shook himself off. He was so full of aches and pains from sleeping on the ground that he grunted like an old man for a few moments before his body thawed somewhat. Glancing around automatically for anything he'd forgotten, and realizing belated that he had nothing to forget, Cid wandered out of the cave and into the cold, crisp mountain daylight.

With any luck, a week from now, and he'd be home, and taking a nice, long hot shower….

Of course, showers predicted, it began to rain, again. Cid swore softly to himself as the first, large, freezing drop of rain fell down the back of his neck, but then realized that he probably had it coming for him. He had no right to dream of such comforts. Not now anyway. Maybe in a week, but not now.

The sky -his beloved sky- answered with a clap of thunder.

OoOoOoOoO

AN: Now I'm starting to feel a little depressed, lol. You see, I did something /really/ stupid today. I went, and I drew a little bit of character art for Ric. He's up on my deviantart page (which, if you go into my profile page, is linked as my "homepage" (yek, a lot of "pages" there . )) if you wanna go have a look. It turned out really good, actually. Broke my own heart, though. He ended up with this resigned sort of smile, as if he knows he's gunna get it. . So yeah, I finish that on the computer, and then I'm sitting here with the line art in my sketchbook, and what do I do?! I color it--AGAIN! So I've been sitting here, working on this, with Ric sitting right next to me with that sad look, watching me write.

I think I'm going nuts. LOL.

Otherwise...

jumps up and down WOW! I've managed a whole 14 pages of BEING SERIOUS! THAT'S NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE!! yay! Lol. Yeah, I'm an idiot. And yes, this is just short of fifteen pages long, thus far. (sans the notes which are like, another ten pages in themselves, right? Lol)

Gaaah... He's staring at me again... ; glances over at the book, then back, then back at the sketchbook Forget this. Shuts the book and throws it behind the couch 

Aah. Better. Don't worry, I haven't lost it...yet...

Oh yeah, did I put enough bad omens in this chapter? Lol. Its supposed to be overdone, people.

Okay, I'm going before I do something stupid... Kudos to all of you brave enough to stick through with this one.

MRE.


	4. 4

_Home is where the heart is, right? What if a person doesn't have a heart? Where do they go then? To hell? To Nowhere? They say even the greatest wounds heal with time. So how long is forever? There's a certain point in one's life, where he stops, looks around, and asks, 'What do I do now?'_

_Chapter Four_

Cid couldn't imagine how, five days later, he hadn't dropped dead from illness. He'd been in the rain since he'd left Costa Del Sol, and now, finally on the home stretch to Rocket Town, with only a few day's worth of grassy plains to cross, Cid was mildly amused that he wasn't even uncomfortable.

There'd been days when he'd sworn just looking outside into the rain had made him sick, and here he'd been, soaked head to toe, day in and out, for over a week, and was just fine.

Maybe his dear Lady Luck had finally forgiven him…

Cid had survived by good luck, and a trust for gut instincts, all his life. He knew better than to count his blessings, but then again, he lived by each and every one. With every adventure he took, he survived by some miracle or another. This had been no different. While every other man aboard his ship had died, he, by a small freak chance and a huge sacrifice, he lived.

And for the first time in his life, Cid wasn't proud, or happy for that turn of events at all.

Cid often wondered, as he continued to travel, worn out, hungry and cold -not to mention wet- if perhaps, if he'd given his life first, all the others would have survived…

At least, just maybe, the rest of AVALANCHE had made it…He was mostly certain of that, though he couldn't be sure.

They may have ran into monsters, or collided with the still-boiling Lifestream, or even happened to land under where the _Highwind_ hit….

Cid felt like a worrying old mother hen, but he couldn't help it. He was something of a pessimist by nature, and in his growing despair, what little optimism he'd held, had fizzled away into less than nothing. That, amounted with all of Cid's previous losses, had caused a great yawning void inside of him, a black hole that was slowly sucking away at his resolve.

A day out from Rocket Town -By noon, he could see the mountains that cradled his town so gently - and Cid was beginning to wonder why he even bothered putting one foot in front of the other. That day went slower than any other before, and Cid watched in slow motion as his feet moved sluggishly, dark storm clouds forming over the snowy mountain ranges, dark and ominous.

Cid felt like maybe he should let out a self-pitying sigh over the prospect of more rain… He'd managed a day's worth of relatively clear skies, and he'd almost dried out, even. Nothing really came out of him though. The thought of a sigh, maybe, but little else.

Cid had seen broken men before. He and his drinking buddies used to joke about them being "Whipped" by their woman, where he'd been sapped of everything by some leech… Cid didn't even have a woman to sap his strength, though. He'd done it all on his very, pathetic, own.

And he did feel sorry for himself, even though he knew he shouldn't. Nobody else would, that was for sure.

Still, as Cid reached Rocket Town, just before dusk, he felt a small smile of relief stretch his face.

He was home. Beautiful, peaceful Rocket Town. A phenomenon in itself, Rocket Town was literally built on dreams. His dreams. Everything Cid ever loved, and much more, lie here. Yes, its namesake, the ShinRa # 26 Rocket was gone, and Cid was, for now, without a plane, but the town lived.

As he walked the darkening streets towards his home, Cid allowed himself to take a deep breath. Yes, it was going to rain. He could smell the ozone in the air. That wild, charged feeling of nature at work. It was always stronger here, away from other cities, and so close to the wild open of the forests and mountains all around. Tomorrow, perhaps, Cid would climb the hill that towered closest to town, and just spend the day there, gazing out into the wild blue, and back on his home. If he went even a little further to the next rise, he knew he could see the ocean, even on a cloudy day.

It was dark by the time Cid reached his own front door, but the lights were on, and the door was unlocked. Good Shera. Cid made a mental note to find something nice for her. She deserved it. He'd been unduly cruel to her, and while he'd managed to reconcile some things with her, during their brief journey into space, there was much to be made up for.

He decided at the last moment to knock, just to give her warning. It had been over a month, after all.

Cid wasn't surprised at all when, moments later, Shera cracked the door open, and gasped, eyes wide and startled.

"Captain!" Something inside of Cid cracked. He never wanted to be called that again. But Shera didn't know that, and he was too weak and tired to tell her, just now. Before she could speak anymore, he pushed in past her, not really noticing that she'd been blocking the doorway.

"I'll talk later…need….rest…" he muttered, stumbling off towards his own room. He hadn't felt so tired until he'd seen his own house. Still, the sight had triggered some response, and now he was beyond exhausted. Shera stood gaping after him in shock, speechless for a moment before running after him.

Cid had already changed into an old pair of sweats and a dry sweatshirt when Shera dashed into his room.

"Captain, please--!" Cid gave her a tired look, sinking onto his bed. Shera slapped on his light and Cid winced, blinking against the bright lights.

"Please. Just Cid…" Cid said quietly.

"What?" Shera looked taken aback.

"Just call me Cid… please? No more 'Captain.' I can't take it."

"Uh… alright…."

"Thanks…" Cid sank back, closing his eyes tiredly.

"Um…Ca--Cid… I think--" Shera began nervously. Cid didn't open his eyes.

"Tomorrow. It can all wait until tomorrow… okay…" He paused. "Please?" Shera swallowed, stepping back, startled. Was this even really Cid? Shaking her head, Shera backed out of the room, shutting the lights off, and closing his door after her.

OoOoOoOoO

AN: yeah a little bit shorter this time. Sleep tight, Cid. You'll need it.

1) I know I'm skirting the passage of time quicker than I usually do...but then again, I'm doing a lot of stuff I don't usually do, for this one.

2) Well, I've been badgering my best pal Ree to read this fic, and apparently she went and read the first chapter last night (JUST THE FIRST!) and had to stop because it was making her depressed.... whups... XX, Sorry Ree.

3) As an afterthought: Yes, Shera's involved now. No, there's nothing between her and Cid in this one. She'll be the one to kind of shrug and wander off when the proverbial shit hits the fan. Cid's on his own. ( Cries poor baby.. huggles Cid )

Reviewers:

FFLove: wow, did I even drag Zack down with this one? stares Oo

Kinkydoomhobbit: (I still love your name) Yeah. ...Yeah... Choked me up too, actually. . lol. Heh, well, Ric was sort of a PART of my inner self... (you'll be glad to hear, though, that that part of me hasn't actually died... unfortuantely, lol... )

Ikleeshumo: It went to an even scarier place than the freezer: Under the bed. The monster that lives there, Harold, ate it, as far as I know... shrugs so... lol.

Bustahead: I was afraid the end of ch. 2 would become cliche' but I guess I did alright... As to where this is going? Well, frankly, to hell, and back. And yeah, Ric was sort of a guardian angel...sorta...until he got munched, at least. . He's just dead now.

Torahiko: Yes, at least he went down while making himself useful, huh? (winces). And yeah... I gotta go back and rewrite that other fic... We'll give that nasty old fart a name, and then whack him. lol.... Oh yeah, and since you mentioned the first chapter seeming shonen-ai-ish (looks at that half-assed excuse for a word and nearly passes out) I've been getting very yaoish (damn...'nother weird word) thoughts about those two. Thank you so very much for making me even more demented than I already was! (weak glare) And when I actually write it (because eventually, it'll want /out/) YOU'RE gunna be stuck beta-reading it. (somehow, I'll make that be a very scary threat)


	5. 5

_How are old wounds supposed to heal if the whole world keeps digging them back open, only to pour salt and acid into ever-deeper breaks. How are people supposed to repent for their sins, when nobody will let them. A person can be so cold and cruel to everyone else, and not realize his entire life that someday, it may become he who is at the mercy of the world. To make mistakes is to be human. Life wouldn't be lived if bad things didn't happen. The world insists on there being someone to lay the blame on, for even the slightest flaws or errors, even when everyone is innocent. Sometimes, nobody is at fault. Most of the time, nobody notices._

_Chapter Five_

Cid slept until noon the next day. He had been more exhausted than he originally thought, and even when he finally found the strength to crawl out of bed, his body ached and groaned in protest. Still, life went on and as much as Cid wanted to just crawl back under the covers and sleep the rest of his life away, life went on, whether he was a part of it or not.

And Cid honestly would rather be a part of the goings on around him than to just hide. Battered and bruised as his spirit was at the moment, he knew in his heart that he had to go on and live just like everybody else.

That didn't mean that Cid wasn't going to take his time on the first shower he'd had in over a week. The hot water came and went, and only when he started to shiver did he resign and finally get out, pausing again to stop and revel in the feeling of the ultra-soft-and-fluffy towel. Hey, even The Captain enjoyed a little warm and fuzzy every now and then.

Clean, dressed and dry, Cid finally wandered out into the rest of his house, almost prepared to smile.

Shera sat at the little table in the front room, reading a newspaper, but looked up at him when Cid finally emerged from his little cave in the back of the house. She didn't smile, but she seemed at least glad that he had gotten out of bed.

"Are you hungry, Captain?" She asked, entirely automatically. Cid gave a weak half smile as he sat down across from her.

"Yeah…famished… but…" Cid paused to run a hand through his hair. " I ain't the 'Captain' no more, okay?" Shera gave him a confused look.

"ShinRa's gone, the _Bronco_'s lost somewhere, and the _Highwind_'s nothing but a big chunk of abstract art somewhere near Midgar…" He explained quietly. Shera sat gaping at him for a moment, mouth working in shock.

"Th-the crew?" She asked finally, and instantly wished she hadn't as Cid bowed his head slightly, pushing his eyes shut. She could see the muscles around his throat and jaw constrict, the skin around his eyes and lips pale slightly, and felt her own face pale as he shook his head in negation.

"As far as I know… dead…all of them… I dun know about Cloud and the others, but…" He looked up at Shera, and she saw that even his eyes had lost their vibrant color, gone to a cloudy gray. "They….insisted on goin' down with her…" Shera gave him a look then. Then why hadn't Cid gone as well? Or gotten them off? He could read it in her eyes, saw them narrow with something else stirring beneath that he couldn't quite figure out yet. He cleared his throat, hoping to ease some of the tightness in it, to no avail. "One of the kids grabbed me 'n a parachute and jumped just before she crashed…" He added. Shera's face lit up.

"Then someone did live!"

"No. Monster got him… just outside of Junon… He…he saved my life… It should have been me…" Shera nodded, standing suddenly. Her shoulders were straight and stiff looking. Cid tried to ignore that. It bothered him. He imagined that when Judgment Day came, the angel that would turn him away from the Pearly Gates and down towards Hell would stand that way: Stiff and stern, with cold eyes. I'm just doing what I have to, it would say. Cid shivered again, and buried his face into his hands for a moment as Shera moved around the kitchen. She came out again, only a short while later, with a platter stacked high with sandwiches.

Cid smiled, and turned his eyes up to her.

"Woman, you're a saint." He said, all too sincerely. Shera was taken aback by this as well, and seated herself across from him quietly, eyes wide.

"You've changed." She said flatly after a long silence in which Cid began devouring one sandwich and then another. He paused, swallowing, and looked up at her again, eyes thoughtful.

"Yeah… I guess I have…A person shouldn't have to go through as much shit as we did…"

Shera frowned strangely, then.

"What /did/ happen?" She asked. Cid looked up again from his lunch, candid eyes puzzled.

"Well…waddaya mean?" He pressed.

"What was that Meteor thing all about? Why'd it go away like that at the last moment? Where were you all this time? What /happened/?!" Shera demanded, her voice taking on a flustered tone. Cid frowned again, but then sighed.

"Long story… Lessee… abridged version… General Sephiroth went loopy on us all and decided he wanted to be a goddamned friggen god or something, and decided that he could tap the energy of the planet if he hurt it bad enough or something…. Well, the bastard thought it would be cute to go and get this black materia or something, and use it to summon this big ol fucking glowing red rock from god knows where to smash us all to hell. Cloud seemed 'ta have some sort of personal vendetta against the guy, too…. Well, anyway, we end up down in the bottom of that hell hole, Northern Crater fighting the fucker… we won, I guess… the world didn't end, right? Once Sephiroth was out of the picture, some Ancient Girl Sephiroth killed was able to harness the power of some materia called Holy…I think… and it was able to manifest itself to fight Meteor off… that was all that green 'n white glowin' you probably saw even from here… Lifestream was bubblin' out of the planet and everything. One hell of a nasty mess, really. Midgar got completely flattened…" He paused, going sober for a moment again. Shera was gaping at him incredulously, which sort of bothered him, but then again, it /was/ a pretty wild tale… "Well…the force of Holy and Meteor clashing, and the upheaval of the Planet… Shook my baby to pieces, and she went down about the time all that chaos was just finishin' up… The rest you already know, I guess…" Shera was still staring at him strangely. Cid sighed, standing abruptly, and turning straight for the door.

"Anyways, I'm headin' for the bar… shit… I need a drink…" He was halfway outside into the open air when Shera suddenly snapped out of her stupor.

That was /not/ what they'd said had happened on TV…

Jumping up, Shera ran out after him.

"CID! WAIT--!" Shera paused, one arm extended towards Cid's back as he turned, glancing at her curiously. All around him, the townspeople had paused at the name, as well, and were staring both at her, and more importantly, Cid.

Cid cocked his head, not yet noticing, giving Shera a mild look.

"What is it?" He paused, smiling softly. "Do I have mustard all over me or something?"

"No! Its not that its--" She glanced over Cid's shoulder at a small group of men walking slowly their way. Cid's eyes widened at the scared look on her face, and risked a quick glance as well, then turned back to Shera.

"What?"

"Nobody knows… that you actually stopped Meteor. Shin-Ra said--"

"/Shit/." It was hitting Cid even as she spoke.

"That it was AVALANCHE that caused Meteor not…" She trailed off, but then finished quietly before the approaching men were in earshot. "Cid…you're a convicted criminal, innocent or not…"

Cid's jaw dropped, and he swore softly again.

"Well, well, well! Look who it is! Our lawful mayor!" Cid turned on his heel to give the speaker a passive stare.

"…Hello, Davis." Cid said, voice low and defensive. A nod to two more he recognized, "Jake, Sands." He gave the fourth man a glance, but while he looked disturbingly familiar, Cid was certain he didn't know him.

"You got a lot of nerve comin' back to a town where every livin' person knows yer face, Highwind." Davis said, eyes sliding over Cid in a predatory way. Cid threw his shoulders back, deciding to play stupid.

"And why the hell, may I ask, would I not want to return to my own town?" Cid asked. Davis laughed.

"Don't give me that shit, moron." He growled. Cid frowned, stepping back. He and Davis had never been best buddies, or anything like that, but comrades, maybe friends. Not enemies. He'd never heard the other man speak quite so coldly to him.

"I ain't shittin' ya, what's goin' on?" Cid said, hurt.

"ShinRa's got a pretty big price on your head!" Sands said brightly from behind Davis. "You, and all those other little freak friends of yours."

"ShinRa's dead, damnit!" Cid argued. Still, his eyes were starting to rove carefully, looking for possible weapons, hiding places, anything.

"Yeah, that's what you were wantin', wasn't it?! Yeah, your Meteor shit might'a flattened the ShinRa tower, but the company lives, and they want /your/ ass for trying to fucking destroy the whole fuckin /world/!" Sands declared, pointing accusingly at Cid.

"WHAT?!" Lovely. Just fucking lovely. Cid was realizing that he'd managed to jump right out of the pan and into the god damned fire. "If it weren't for those kids, Meteor /would/ have fallen! We /stopped it/!"

"Pft! You're a crummy liar, Captain."

"Captain?" The fourth man finally spoke up. Cid groaned softly. God, would they ever /stop/ calling him that? He looked up again to the man who'd spoken. Thus far, he'd dropped the angry leer that the others wore, and Cid wondered if maybe he'd manage to skirt trouble after all. "/The/ Captain? As in Captain of the _Highwind_?"

Cid nodded slowly.

"Yeah. That's me. Or was. My plane was trashed when Meteor and Holy collided." There were a few confused "Holy?" comments in the background, but Cid was fixed on the sudden grieved expression on this stranger's face.

"My…my son… He worked on that plane… He…He's alright, isn't he?"

Cid swallowed. He suddenly realized why he thought he knew this guy. Dark blue eyes were fixed on Cid's face, searching. Cid dropped his gaze, refusing to meet such an intense stare…again.

"Your son… was Ric, wasn't it?" Cid said after a long pause, voice barely audible. The man's dark eyes widened in shock. Cid took that as a 'yes'. "He looks like you… Brave kid." Ric's father smiled for a moment. "Here…" Cid dipped his hand under his collar for a moment, and pulled off Ric's dog tags, handing them to the older man. "He…he thought you were dead. We were headed for Junon to find you to make sure…" Cid struggled on. "He saved my life…. Twice."

Mr. McNeilian's face crumpled as he alternately stared from the metal tags in his hand, and Cid's face. Cid wondered how he had ended up in Rocket Town, but didn't ask. It didn't matter now anyway.

"He was my only son…" The older man said quietly. "He was my only son!" He repeated, voice stronger. "HE WAS MY ONLY SON, GODDAMN IT!" He threw the metal dog tags back in Cid's face. They struck the pilot just under the right eye, cutting his cheek sharply. Cid winced, but caught the metal cards and chain before they fell, holding them numbly in his open palm. "WHY THE FUCK COULDN'T YOU SAVE HIM?!" Mr. McNeilian screamed. Cid staggered backward, gasping.

"I tried, damnit!" He finally retorted. "Don't you think I wouldn't have tried to save such a nice kid?!" Cid snapped, eyes flashing. His fury was dimmed when a fist came flying foreword, and collided sharply with his jaw, setting him staggering back further.

Behind Cid, Shera clung to the outside wall of his house, watching with both hands over her mouth, eyes wide. She was frozen, and incapable of helping anyway.

Mr. McNeilian brought his hand back, heaving.

"You killed them all, didn't you? You fucking killed my son, and all he could ever talk about was 'Captain Highwind', the mighty goddamned Captain!"

Cid cringed, looking away.

"I tried…" He argued weakly.

"TRIED?! YOU should have died, NOT all those innocent young men! NOT MY SON!" The older man pounced on Cid throwing him back, hands around his neck and tightening. He was crying, face crushed with grief and anger, and for a moment, Cid considered just letting the man kill him. Reflexes kicked in, though, and Cid found himself fighting off the attack before he could even think about it.

Grappling wasn't his strong point, and while Cid scrambled to get off the ground, the other three -his old friends- joined in, kicking him and holding him down while Ric's father did his best to choke the life out of him.

It was by sheer luck that Cid managed to twist out of their grips, and scramble past Shera, pulling her in with him as he went, and through the door to his house, before locking both of them safely inside.

OoOoOoOoO

AN: Sorry for the repeating chapters, people. I'm usually only 1/2 coherent by the time I've finished one of these chapters -- I just sit down and write it all in one go, so that I don't get lost.

1) I think this chapter made up for the previous shortie. (which should be fixed now, by the way).

2) So yeah. Uber-heavy again. We had our break in ch. 4... But I did rather enjoy writing Cid's take on what happened with Sephiroth and Meteor. And there's lots of holes in that tale simply because Cid didn't think it entirely important to tell Shera every detail. It was probably our last taste of the Highwind (TM) Charm for a while... The Cid we all know is fading away rather quickly from here on out.

3) Caught up with me yet, Ree? (Watch, I'm going to have to print out all 20 pages of text and mail them to her because she doesn't have the time online to read it... . lol.)

4) makes an angry face YOU STILL AREN'T READING DOMINUS' STUFF! ITS GOOD! GO READ, AND THEN REVIEW, DAMNIT! ...) aah... feel better now :)

Torahiko: This whole fic is traveling faster than I expected it to. I think, in overall comparison to my other writings, that it'll be considerably shorter, but there's no way of telling for sure until I'm done, right? :)

Yeah. That pic is breaking my heart every time I see it. I've sketched Ric chibi-style a few times now, too. (But they're no good, still. I need more practice, so I haven't posted anything)

Bustahead: Yeah. This fic, at least, he's munched. . I think he'll probably end up in another shortie at some point, though. He's turned into a rather loveable OC...

Yeaaaah.... stupid upload crap... That's really embarrasing, uploading the double chapters like that. . I don't know how I keep doing that. lol.

Kinkydoomhobbit: (shakes head, laughing at the name Love that. Every time, lol) Broke? Umm...yeah. pretty much. (winces) And you really /dont/ want to know where this whole thing is going, but if my uber-angstness so compells you... (shrugs) Oh, and believe me, the "Ric Thing" is killing me too. And Ric, but we already knew that. (coughs excuse the pun. I'm a sicko)


	6. 6

_It's like treading on ice… one misstep and you've fallen. Shift your weight wrong and the whole world may go crashing out from underneath you. It could be eggshell thin, ready to crack at any moment, or perhaps just simply melt away into oblivion. The surface is calm, but nobody ever knows what's going on underneath._

_A person can't be blamed for stepping the wrong way. He, and many others, had said 'shit happens' and gone on. It's amazing how many people loose their grip on that concept as soon as they feel the first sting of frostbite at their ankles._

_I personally never blamed anyone. What happens, happens. It couldn't be helped. I wish he knew that…_

_Chapter Six_

Cid turned his back to the door and slid to the floor, gasping and choking against threatening tears. Shera stood silently by the table, watching him. Cid ignored her for the time being, and stayed where he was in a collapsed heap, his face buried against his knees, hands over the back of his head, as if he might shield himself from fate the way one might defend against some aerial bombardment.

Shera watched as Cid's shoulders began to shake, finally a pathetic, choked sound ringing out from somewhere under his arms. She sighed, moving away and into the kitchen, setting a pot of water to boil. Tea might not fix the problem, but it'd get the Captain to stop crying. Seeing such a previously strong person in pieces like this was beginning to unnerve her.

She had honestly tried to warn him, but there was nothing that could be done, now, and Shera felt that even if she /had/ managed to tell Cid about the price on his head /before/ he got out the door, he likely would have just ignored her anyway.

"Captain…" Minutes later, two steaming mugs sat on the table behind her, ready and waiting now, and she stood over Cid, still in a crumpled ball by the door. Slowly, Cid lifted his face to stare up at her. Shera felt her chest tighten, just a little. His eyes were indeed glossy, red and puffy, his face gaunt and pale, and his entire expression entirely empty. His eyes began to water again, and Shera sighed. "Come have some tea, Captain."

Cid's pale eyes flicked away from the woman standing over him, going unfocused as he stared off into space.

"…it's Cid…" He corrected, voice barely a hoarse whisper, even as he rocked foreword, carefully climbing to his feet. He'd received a hearty beating outside, and while all it would take was a simple potion, or a cast of the Restore materia still in his shirt pocket, he let the pain linger.

It was the least he could do. Share a little of the pain that the parents of all those young men will be experiencing in the months to come, when mothers and fathers realized their baby boy wasn't coming home.

Moving slowly, a small limp hindering him even more, Cid staggered over to his seat at the table, slumping into it heavily. He let his arms slide over the table, leaning heavily on his elbows as his hands wrapped around the soothing warmth of his cup of tea. Leaning foreword a little, he realized he could see his own reflection in the dark brew, and found his eyes locked on the tired, hurt eyes of his reflection.

Was that really, truly him down there? A week without eating had made his cheeks thin, his eyes distant, complexion faded and gray. His forehead and the regions around his lips and eyes were creased with pain. His eyes left the tea and slid down to his hands, and while they appeared clean, Cid could see countless gallons of blood staining work and battle worn skin. He frowned slightly. He hadn't realized just how rough and callous they'd become. Probably from the extra fighting, and then loosing his work gloves. Cid sighed as his eyes fell back on the nebulous liquid moving idly in its mug, and again, he lost himself, staring down into dark translucency, almost as if he were waiting for it to simply morph into a black hole that would open up and swallow him.

If it did, Cid would likely dive right in, fully willing. It would either take him to a new, different world, and a new life, or it would send him straight to hell. Considering this, Cid reasoned that he might as well get it over with.

But no black hole opened up in Cid's now cooling tea. He rather wished it would.

Shera sighed, watching Cid stare into his tea as if it might give him the meaning of life, death, and why the world sucked so badly, any minute now. His tea had long ago ceased to steam, and still he hadn't taken a single sip. She sighed again, standing.

"You can't mope forever, you know." She said, rather harshly. Cid didn't respond at all, just continued to stare into oblivion. "I don't know exactly what happened," She went on, moving to the kitchen. "But you can't say you blame them…" She stated flatly.

"…I don't…" Cid answered, barely audible. "I don't blame anyone…"

"Well, stop blaming yourself." Shera demanded.

"How?" Cid asked, voice strained already. "How can I not blame myself for what happened WHEN IT'S MY FAULT?!" Cid was looking up at her, finally, his eyes wide, face drawn in both hope and agony.

"You can't lament forever." Shera insisted. Cid closed his eyes.

"I have to try… …For all those people…"

"You were never a saint, Cid. No point in changing your ways now." Shera said flatly. Cid ran a hand through his hair, looking away. At least she'd stopped calling him 'Captain'.

"True…" Cid fell silent again, eyes drifting and hollow. Shera stood, waiting for him to say something more, before finally realizing that he was done. Growing irritated, she threw her hands down to her side with a sharp sound.

"Damnit, Cid! Quit moping and feeling so goddamned sorry for yourself!" Shera snapped. She didn't realize just how much she sounded like the Cid she once knew. The silence went on, and she sighed.

"Look, shit happens, people get hurt, they die, they live… and here you are trying to make yourself some shit-headed hero by taking all the pain of the world upon yourself! Cut it out: It's not impressive!" Cid lifted hurt eyes to his former assistant, sincerely shocked, but too soul-worn to respond. "Grow up and get a life." She finished, turning away and going back into the kitchen from where she'd stood in the doorway.

Cid stared after Shera in shock for a long, silent moment, before rising quickly, and moving to the back of the house. He reached his room, swung the door open, slammed it shut, and then locked it. Three more staggered steps, and Cid fell to his bed, landing belly first, face already buried in a pillow. He grabbed that with both hands, lifted it out from under himself and turned to hug it slightly instead, curling onto his side.

Anyone who might have been in the room would have seen Cid progress from simply turning into a one-sided embrace, his grip on the pillow white-knuckled, to trembling softly. Trembling turned to rougher tremors, and soon, the softest of sounds could be heard as Cid finally gave up on holding back a wall of sobs he'd been holding, pressing his chest like bricks.

What were initially soft sounds grew with each minute. Small, hitched sounds rose in pitch into low moans, rugged and broken. It didn't take long for Shera, even on the other side of the house, to easily hear the results of Cid's breakdown. She waited a while for the sounds to stop, before finally giving up.

Disturbed, she grabbed her coat and purse and hurried out of the house.

Cid opened his sore eyes and fell quiet for a moment, as he heard the front door open and shut again, the house going still. His chest still heaved in jagged, hitching movements but he did his best to silence himself. It was too late now, of course, to bother staying quiet. Shera was long gone by now. It was yet another cold gesture from her though, and it had stung him into silence. He felt his own tears spilling silently over his face, quite literally gushing, soaking his cheeks, chin and the pillow he was hugging. He hugged the pillow a little closer, ignoring its dampness.

Perhaps it wouldn't have hurt so much if his friends hadn't completely turned their backs on him for all the wrong reasons. Cid realized that the town didn't hate him for the death of one boy, or several dozen, but because they had all just had the crappiest period of time in their lives, and wanted someone to take it out on.

Maybe it was just a small price: a few lives over millions, and Cid /had/ helped save the world.

But for what?

He wondered if perhaps Cloud and the others were receiving similar convictions elsewhere in the world. They likely were, and Cid's heart went out to them. To those who had gotten sucked in, just as he had, and for those at the very heart of AVALANCHE.

He understood that Barret had done wrong for a greater good on several occasions, but he also knew the large gunman had good values, and valid cares. Cid had only met Marlene once or twice, but she was the damned brightest girl Cid had ever met, and it had been clear that Barret had cared for her.

Cid himself had initially joined the group out of boredom, but had soon begun to believe in their cause in earnest, and he still did.

Unfortunately, that in itself had been his undoing. The second he'd decided to be a good man and stick with them till the very, bitter end, he'd signed the death sentence for so many. Just one good-hearted right decision had killed some of the people who had trusted him the most.

That stung.

It stung to think about Ric telling him how he'd fought and struggled to become one of the_ Highwind_'s crew, only to die for his efforts. Because of him.

Another low moan escaped Cid's lips, and he dropped his head back into his arms, letting his shoulders shake.

Shera was right. He would grow up, he would get a life…or die trying…but for today…

Today he was as alone as he ever had been, or ever would be, only worse. He was dead to a world who wanted his head on a platter. Dead to friends, coworkers and comrades who didn't care /what/ he said anymore. They had never really liked him anyway. Just respected him. There was a difference, after all. Cid remembered so many ugly-tempered officials whom he'd respected, but loathed with a vengeance.

Cid pushed his eyes shut, curling in on himself as more tears sprung forth. They were getting so frequent and deep that sooner or later, he might drown completely.

If only he'd known, the wall of hate he had been designing all his life would come crashing down upon him, like the ton of bricks it was.

He wished he could warn others. Maybe, though, maybe he would just set an example instead. He had, after all, always preached that one should learn by the idiotic mistakes of others.

Sinking back, Cid let out a long sigh. He didn't feel any better, in fact, he felt awful, but the release had at least helped him sort things out a little. He reached up to wipe his face dry, and found something intertwined into his fingers.

Ric's tags. Cid looked at them in surprise for a moment. He just couldn't get rid of those things, could he?

Fair enough.

He sat up enough to once again place the chains around his neck to join his own. Maybe, someday, Ric's father would be ready for this final memento of his son, but for the moment, Cid was willing to be custodian of such simple, important objects.

Cid fought back a shiver as the cold metal again slid down against the heat of his chest, to rest next to the warmer metal already resting over his heart. Cid held them through his shirt for a moment, clutching at the metal tags like prayer beads.

After a long moment, Cid withdrew them from under his shirt again, raising them in the dim light of his room to read the information carefully printed there.

Name… Ric McNeilian…age…18, height…five feet, ten inches… weight… birth date…. Cid sighed. He had known what he would find on those tags, but he'd hoped for something…. Special, he supposed. Something he hadn't already known or guessed about the boy. Some connection. No such luck. Stuffing the identification tags under his shirt again, Cid rolled over, closing his eyes. He had finally stopped crying, and he was drained and sore inside and out.

Cid fell asleep into his own silence quickly.

OoOoOoOoOo

AN:

1) First and Foremost, I'm sorry it's taken me so bloody long to update. XX This chapter was hard to get going, and I've been furthermore held up with school. I just finished the first week of a new semester, so hopefully things will be settling down and I can get back to writing more frequently again. Until then, I'm sorry. BUT-these fics will NOT be forgotten, nor ignored. I'm just trudging through mud instead of flying, right now.

2) Depressed yet? I know I am, lol. This fic will probably be drawing to a close in another chapter or two...I'm going to be skipping ahead a year and then pretty much ending it. But we'll see, for sure. :) After this...Well, more of Vincent's demons on coffee break or something else incredibly stupid and funny like that. We'll all need it, right?

3) No, we don't get to forget Ric. He's gunna be sticking to this fic like the aftertaste of bad chinese fast food.


	7. 7

_Perhaps I should have seen it all coming… should have known better. Still, reason speaks to me, saying "well, how could you have?" It never made anything less painless, though. The truth hurts, ya know, and the truth is that humans in general are a sick, bloodthirsty bunch that will take any excuse they can get to bring a man down. Humans are supposed to be above other animals… above God and fate and the forces of nature. But they're not. They're at the bottom. They think they're above sin, above all the bad things that happen to everyone else: Above death. Given, some aren't but most of them…_

_…I…shouldn't get into it. Too late, now…_

_Chapter 7_

When Shera finally came home, it was well past midnight. She had gone to a girlfriend's house, initially planning to stay the night there, but deciding to return to Cid's house, anyway. Shera had spilled everything she knew about Cid's circumstances to her one true friend and confidante, seeking assistance.

She felt for Cid: It was obvious the kind of pain the man was in, but then again, he had been cruel to her for years.

Perhaps, Shera reasoned, though she regretted it, perhaps he had it coming for him, all along. Shera didn't want to think that, but all it took was memories of some of the things he had said, and that guilt washed away. She consoled herself with the decision that she herself would not turn him in. If somebody else caught him, well… that was Cid's problem.

She found the man in question up, and back at the table with a fresh cup of tea and, strangely, a loaf of bread. He was munching a piece of dry sliced sandwich bread when she came in, but paused to look up at her. He was composed now, but silent as death, and honestly, looking as dead as he sounded.

Pale as moonlight, with red, sunken eyes, Shera wondered if he might be a ghost, that she'd find the real Cid Highwind back in his room, dead, drowned in his own self-pity.

It wasn't certain if Shera was disappointed or reassured when he smiled weakly at her.

Moving in the silence, Shera sat down across from him, staring into gray eyes. She noted briefly that his eyes, as always, matched the sky outside, though it was dark now. It had been overcast and threatening rain all day. In their silence, she could hear a million frogs calling out their pulsing, broken-bell song for the rain to come. It made the night seem incredibly close, almost tangible.

Cid was still watching her, though not with any outward interest. He was still sipping at his tea, working on that same slice of bread, eating it almost hesitantly. Shera furrowed her brow.

"What's up with the bread?" She asked finally. The question sounded coarse against the soft sounds of the deep night, but Cid either didn't mind, didn't care, or didn't notice. He swallowed, shrugging weakly.

"Couldn't keep anything else down…" He said softly, before raising the half-eaten slice of bread up slightly. "This seems okay, though…." He added. "Dun really feel like eating….but… I'm not going to recover from anything if I don't get my strength back…" He finished. Shera nodded sagely, accepting this.

At least he's going to try and get his ass back in gear…Her thoughts concerning Cid had been alarmingly bitter since he had returned, and while she sincerely believed his story -she knew he wouldn't tarnish his beautiful sky with something as horrible as that Meteor thing- she still…didn't… didn't….trust him.

This is perhaps why she jumped, as he moved suddenly, the squeak of wood on linoleum breaking the silence as he stood, pushing his chair away from himself.

Cid didn't fail to notice this, and he turned his back to her, pushing his eyes shut to try and block out the hurt. The pain numbed after a while, and he decided to reassure her in some way.

"I'm going to bed…I'll start catchin' up on all the shit I've missed tomorrow…" Cid then wandered off towards his room at the back of the house, still limping but quiet. Outside, it had finally begun to rain again, silencing the frogs outside, to replace them with a softer, firmer sound. Shera sighed, sitting back in her chair. She liked the rain. The sound of a steady rain could drown out noise from the rest of the world, could seclude a person from trouble, and it could even drown out one's most pestering thoughts, with barely a sound. The only problem with rain, Shera reasoned, was that it was cold, and that it blocked out the natural beauties of the sky and the stars. But, rain didn't last forever, and eventually, the glories of the sun, sky and stars would return. It was always one or the other, and she was aware of the constant need for sacrifice.

Cid rose early the next morning, up with the sunlight, managed to find himself breakfast -an oddity in its own - and was out back working before ten in the morning. This surprised Shera, because he wasn't out tinkering like she'd expected, but actually straightening up the messes that had formed in his absence. He spent that day, and the next through the following two weeks, going over every aspect of his home that had been neglected.

He would not, however, leave his own property. He stayed low behind the fence in the back, or inside. If something was needed, Shera had to go out and get it herself. That she was used to, and didn't mind. What was new, was that it wasn't just her doing all the work.

She took Cid's help without word or worry.

After a month of self-imposed house arrest, Cid had finally gained the window of good weather he needed to climb up onto the roof, and begin repairs there, as well.

It was one of those quiet, weekend mornings where most of Rocket Town slept in late, and Cid had the privilege of watching the town awaken from his high perch. He watched idly as he worked, noticing first a few, then more people finally entering the streets of town, out on their daily business. The day was warmer than it had been in months, the skies clear and blue, a gentle breeze blowing. It promised of an early spring and a long, warm summer.

It was the kind of day that Cid lived for. The fresh, clean air blowing in just gently enough to ruffle his hair and shirt gently filled his lungs and cleared his system of the tight confines of winter. For a short, sweet while, it dried the tears he had shed weeks ago, and cooled his face. Each feather-light brush of atmosphere soothed aches deep in his heart, and Cid felt that maybe if he stood up high, and spread his arms wide, that he might just take flight on his own, then and there.

Of course, he didn't even bother to try. He had work to do, but as long as the weather was as sweet as it was today, he could work forever and be happy about it.

Up where he was, it was all accentuated. The sunlight was warmer, the breeze stronger, the sky just that much closer, and if Cid closed one eye, he could almost reach up and poke one of the big, fluffy white clouds near the horizon. He took the liberty to pretend to do just so with the handle of the tack hammer he held, chuckling softly. Turning at the sound of rustling wings, Cid saw a small flock of starlings dart through the trees nearest his home, one tiny black bird zipping right by his head. Cid laughed, batting at it playfully as it passed.

"Whoa there, little guy!" He commented, still chuckling as he went back to work. Cid felt no shame in talking to birds. He understood them, loved them for what they were, and if anything, only envied them to some level.

The sun began to descend toward the horizon again, passing noon and going into the early evening, the sky still bright and clear, but the temperature dropping, but Cid whistled gently as he worked. His tune was slightly off, he'd forgotten part of the melody, and his whistling was out of key, but he was quiet, and no one would hear him all the way up here, anyway. It was his indulgence to have.

Down below in the streets of town, Cid didn't notice the figures gathering below an opening in the trees, watching him. Cid's only warning was the glint of golden sunlight off the metallic barrel of a shotgun before one loud bang sent the rest of town into hiding. Closer to the sky, a flock of birds erupted out of the trees, crying out in alarm, and Cid took a mad dive for cover, rolling foreword as a bullet stuck the roof edge he'd been crouched near.

"Shit!"

Tumbling down the slanted rooftop, Cid let out a yelp, before catching the lowest edge, leading toward his back yard, and managed to catch his heel into it. Leaping up, Cid took a flip, then two into the air, landing in a crouched position in the center of his yard, his booted heels sinking heavily into the rain softened ground. Battle senses tingling, Cid managed to look over his shoulder just as the gun glinted again, and he dashed foreword towards the safety of his home just as another bullet ripped a hole in his fence, only to keep going and ricochet off some spare parts in the opposite corner with a distinctive _ping!_

Gasping, Cid stumbled inside, locking the back door as he went.

"Sheeerrrraaaaaaa!!!" He cried, slamming windows shut, closing blinds. "Lock the door!" He didn't know if Shera even heard him, let alone if she would obey -he'd learned through her new attitude toward him, that she would not help nor hinder him- but heaved a sigh of relieve when he heard the distinctive sound of the dead bolt being thrown. He continued to close windows and draw curtains, and met Shera in the kitchen, panting.

"What's going on?!" Shera demanded. "I heard gunshots!" Cid only stood, leaning foreword with his hands on his knees, shaking his head as he gathered his breath.

"Shit….those bastards were tryin' ta shoot me…." Shera remained silent, shook up. Cid continued to try and control his breathing, occasionally uttering a small oath or another.

Another gunshot rang, even as silence had covered the house, and a window shattered in the front room.

"HIGHWIND!!" A voice bellowed from outside. "You got away this time, ya bastard, but we'll get you! Have no doubt about it!" Cid watched, crouched in front of Shera, eyes narrowed and dark. Yes, he had a lot on his conscience, but he didn't like being hunted for it. Wiping sweat from his brow, Cid finally straightened up, moving away from the kitchen and toward the back.

"…Shit…"

After that, only silence.

OoOoOoOoOoO

AN:

1) I take pride in that moment of happiness in the middle. Here in my little secluded valley we just had a day like that... Rocket Town reminds me a lot of where I live...Cradled among mountains and forested hills... Not too far from the ocean... Anyway, we had a break after weeks of rain, and FREEZING COLD weather, and one warm, sunny day in the middle, lol. was inspiring, at least.

2) A little lighter for us all, right? :) Still not happy, but Cid's over himself at least a little, now. (and I consider a month an incredibly quick recovery, but the last /week/ in Cid's life had been so drawn out, I needed to move on with this, a little more plot and a little less total angstness, if you get what I mean)

3) The narratives at the begginning of each chapter, by the way, are from 2 seperate people, the same person every other time. I'm hoping by the end of the story, I'll have been able to reveal both of them without completely botching it up, lol. That's all I should say on that for now. Ree knows, I had to tell somebody, lol. . 

4) Crikey...this is only 7 chapters...doesn't it feel a lot longer than that to everyone else? I guess just because its so heavy, yeah? Honestly, though, I'm beginning to feel very proud of this. I didn't think I was capapble of serious/heavy works. It was another self challenge at first, but somehow, this is easier to write than the other fic, at this point. (and you'll all be surprised to know that I'm not a depressed or angry person at all... I'm actually quite chipper 24/7 (caffeine induced, mostly, but still chipper!) )

Anyway... yeah, I'm back.

MRE


	8. 8

_It always pained me to watch this type of thing happen. It always happens to the best of people. This wouldn't have been the first time I'd witnessed man against man in some pointless battle of wills and weapons. I was naïve about violence and hatred for most of my life. _

_They don't tell you about that sort of thing when you're just a child: not really. Nobody prepares you for the sight and smell of blood, or gunpowder. They show you dramatizations in movies, or pictures in a book that play down the horrors of reality. They didn't tell you that men loose their minds over bloodlust, or loss, and that it happens every day. They don't warn you that dreams can be given or taken as quick as the flip of a coin. I didn't know what all those things looked like, even battling my way through the ranks of ShinRa._

_…The Captain really did teach me everything I knew…in one way or another._

_Chapter 8_

Cid eventually got the roof fixed, and everything else as well. After several attempts to do so in the day time, only to again be pressed to dodge bullets, he'd given up on that approach. Instead, clever as ever, even in this time of hardship, Cid had gone out with a small-powered lamp and done it in the darkest hours of the night.

He'd wound up with some bruised fingernails from missing the shingle tacks and hitting his hand instead, but he'd gotten the job done, and nobody had shot at him.

The stunt had given Cid some satisfaction, if nothing else.

Cid hadn't had much to do after that, locked away inside, afraid to go out. He really didn't relish the idea of being shot dead by some asshole sniper. He'd had too many close calls already, and Cid had learned to hold his cards close to his chest, taking no risks.

The once famous Captain Highwind stood by his front window. No light shone in from the sunny day outside. He had boarded up most of the windows in the house, the occasional bullet breaking a window and hitting the mirror behind his head, or the teapot in his hand: All near misses. He had boarded the windows, leaving little else than a few small peek holes so that he wouldn't be completely separated from the rest of the world.

Shera, frazzled by the constant attempts on his life, the strange living conditions, and the constant temptation to turn him in herself, had left for good a year ago. She had told him she was moving to the now rebuilt Mideel, to live with her parents. After that, Cid had learned to fend for himself quickly enough. He often slipped away to Nibelheim for supplies. Nobody knew his face there and if he left and returned Rocket Town when it was dark, he could do as he pleased. It turned out that Davis had the worlds worst night vision. As the head of the town's vendetta against Cid, the clever Captain had used his enemies flaws to his own advantage.

One might wonder why, when the next town over was safe for Cid, he remained in Rocket Town.

The answer to that had presented itself to Cid about the time he'd begun to consider actually leaving in the form of a definite bulge of pregnancy in a woman he often saw traveling through town. She was one of the few people he didn't know, but he had figured out who she was quick enough. All it had taken was to see Ric's father, Michael, walking with his arm around the woman's waist affectionately.

Cid had felt his heart jump to his throat when he had finally realized that Ric's mother was not just getting fat, but very, very pregnant. He was glad that the boy's parents had decided to move on and try and start a family again, but at the same time, it broke his heart. Ric's tags still hung over Cid's heart, and Cid often found his hand rising to them, touching them through his shirt to check that they were still there.

So here Cid stood by the window, watching silently, always feeling guilty that he was seeing something he shouldn't, watching when people didn't know he was looking. Cid knew that he would never have a family of his own, but sometimes found himself wanting one. If he had a family, would they support him in these dark days he lived in now? He wondered on that more and more.

Before long, maternity clothes were replaced by a stroller, and a small child Cid could often only barely see amongst a myriad of colorful and soft-looking blankets. It seemed like only seconds later that the child could be seen sitting on Michael's shoulders, looking around curiously, then walking on her own, and then running, chasing cats in the street.

Now a little over three, Cid still guessing on the exact birth date of a child he had never met, dressed often in purple or blue, he watched the young girl play in the streets, kicking at dried leaves. Her parents were close by, Cid knew, but he couldn't see them just yet. He saw her face light up as she saw something, and came running in the direction of his house, skipping. A flock of birds flew up in a panic as the child chased them, and Cid felt his eyes water as she paused, smiling in awe, to look up and watch them fly into the sky.

He realized with a small surprise that the girl had wandered within only a few yards of the front of his house. Apparently, her father had noted the same thing, as he suddenly appeared behind her, running up and grabbing her hand, turning her away. Cid swallowed as the girl, chocolate colored pigtails bouncing looked up at her father questioningly, then seemingly right at Cid with a hurt look, before turning and walking away, her hand enveloped in that of her father's.

Cid stepped away from his spy hole, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. He could imagine what Ric's parents told his little sister about the man that lived in the house at the edge of town. He could imagine what their explanation was when she asked about the boy she didn't know in the pictures she likely saw from time to time.

At three, she likely didn't understand what it meant to die, or be killed, but she would understand the gist: stay away. It's dangerous there.

Cid moved through his house in silence, determined not to loose his grasp on sanity, which he sometimes questioned after three years of nearly complete isolation.

He didn't look too hard at himself in the mirror anymore. If he did, he saw a broken, pale ghost of himself, faded and hollow.

He spent his days doing what he could not to neglect his own home, and going through his old belongings. Relics from his days as a cadet in the air force and even earlier took him away to a time of crystalline skies, pranks with his friends, pretty girls, and dreams that could still possibly come true. Cid had never appreciated nostalgia much, but he lived by it now. Cid knew he could loose himself in a dream, but if he focused all his attention on the here and now, he'd probably just kill himself for it.

Cid rubbed his jaw. It was still sore from a blow he'd taken two days earlier. He had ventured out, as the attempted shootings had long stopped, and had approached Ric's father yet again. He had again tried to offer some consolation to the man, a compliment on his wife and daughter, several apologies, and the only memento of Ric that he had.

Cid had come back with a busted jaw and Ric's tags still around his neck, and another threat on his life. Cid hadn't even heard the insults. His ears had been ringing as the shock of the blow and the emotional pain had hit, and all he had seen were angry, broken blue eyes glaring down at him.

Cid glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror, and frowned. A large, fist-shaped purple mark was making itself known on the left side of his face. It was really quite sore, and Cid had found he had to sleep on the opposite side because any pressure, even from a fluffy pillow, had been painful.

Not that it really mattered. He probably deserved that bruise, many more, and far worse.

The days and nights had narrowed down to nothing for Cid. He spent his time lamenting, or trying to atone to himself and the world that hated him for trying to save it. He knew it wasn't fair, but what could he do? He was as guilty for as many sins as he was innocent.

The people had the right idea, hating him. They just had their reasons mixed up.

Cid turned away from himself in the mirror, and wandered into his room. It was dark -the lamp in this room was faded and yellow, the windows blocked out by heavy plywood. He flopped onto his bed, stared up at the ceiling for a while, then rolled over with a grunt.

A small desk to one side of his bed fell into his view, and he stared emptily at a number of framed photographs of himself and 'the guys' from way back when that he'd dug out of deep storage. Cid closed his eyes. If he tried hard enough, he could almost hear their laughter again, his intermingling with laughs louder and more raucous than his own. He could almost see them in motion again, grinning, making vulgar gestures that were somehow funny. If he focused hard enough, Cid could turn the imaginary camera around just a little to the left, to see the row of airplanes lined up and sparkling in the sun behind them.

If Cid held his breath, tried not to breathe for a moment, he could go back to the day of his first solo flight. He could still feel the wind and the sun on his face, and the slight pressure against his chest as he took dangerously tight turns and dives at white-knuckled speeds.

Curled up in the dark, eyes clamped shut against reality, Cid Highwind grinned toothily, for just a moment.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

AN:

This is almost done. I'm going to finish it in the next chapter.

The good news on that is I have an idea for an Epilogue short of sorts that I'll post as a seperate story. It doesn't fit into this story as far as mood and setting go, but It'll be a nice change, I think.

Bustahead: Yes, its Cid and Ric.

Torahiko: Thank you so very much for the wonderful compliments! I loved that review so much I saved it on m pooter, lol. . As to your questions, this fic is focused entirely on Cid. I coudln't tell you what happened to the others, either, lol. You're welcome to come up with your own theories, though :)

Dominus: Brave of you to read this, lol :)

FFlove190: I like the rain too. Cid doesn't. lol. :)

ikleeshumo: LOL. I love your selfless act of sacrifice by giving Shera up to the wrath of reality instead of Cid, lol

kinkydoomhobbit: well, here's your few years ahead. Not much has changed, ne?

Ree: Uhh...sorry? lol. ,


	9. The End

_They were wrong about me, all along, but sometimes, right and wrong don't matter at all._

_Maybe I proved my point, I don't know. It doesn't matter now, and I know I can't let it get to me. There are better things waiting for me where I'm headed now, and at last, I'll be free. There won't be another day where I won't be able to walk under the free, wild blue ever again…_

_Chapter 9_

Cid's eyes snapped open as he heard a disturbingly close crash, pulling him from his dreams. He had a moment, before reality snapped fully back, where he was able to reflect in disappointment that he had been quite happy the way he was, not to be disturbed. He didn't really know how long he'd been lying there, daydreaming, but he couldn't think about that any longer. There was another loud bang and a crash at the front of the house, and Cid sat up abruptly, the dream now long lost.

He held his breath, body tense, muscles coiled, as he listened. A thump, and footsteps, coming in, echoing against hardwood floors in an empty, dark house. Cid let out a slow breath, closing his eyes and steeling himself for a moment. He was suddenly glad that Shera had long since left. He could take care of himself however he needed to, now. Opening his eyes, Cid crept quietly from his bed, across the room, grabbing his spear, boots falling silently on the carpeted floor. He ignored his jacket, though he still wore his goggles, as always. As he moved in stealth, the twin pairs of dog tags at his chest clinked softly under his shirt. Cid unconsciously reached up and touched them briefly before moving towards his bedroom door. It was closed, but he could hear the footsteps of several people growing nearer with each step. Cid was glad the lights were out, it would take them longer to find him in the dark house.

Holding his homemade spear close, Cid held back a small growl in his throat. They'd never had the nerve to actually try and invade his home before. He could hear some of them talking softly to each other.

"Damn…what the hell is this guy…?"

"Living in the dark like this? Must be nuts…"

"Shaddup, both of you." Cid smirked as he recognized the third voice as Davis.

"…Somebody lives here?" Cid looked down as he caught the fourth voice as Michael McNeilian's.

"Quit gawking Mike, yer actin' like that kid of yers." Cid heard a soft, angry snort, and wondered briefly if perhaps he should just tear away some of the boards at the back window, and sneak out.

"HIGHWIND!" Maybe it was too late. "We know yer in there hiding!" Davis' ultimatum echoed in the empty hallway. Cid grit his teeth.

"Whaddya want, Davis?" He called back, voice rough, edgy.

A laugh.

"We want this all to end, Highwind. Come on out." Davis' voice was too sugary sweet, full of disdain and hatred for Cid to fall for one word of the seemingly benevolent sounding line. He let out a harsh growl, frustrated.

"Then come and find me!"

There was a pause, a series of soft curses, and then thundering footsteps as they hurried through the hallway, doors slamming against their frames as each room was checked in procession. Cid held his breath, heart fluttering, then seeming to stop, then flutter to life again with each room closer to his own his hunters came. The door next to his cracked sharply as it was kicked, smacking against the inside wall. There was a pause, a lasting silence, and a sharp chuckle into the silence, and Cid backed away, gripping his spear, white knuckled.

"Highwind…" Came the call. Cid grit his teeth, not answering, but stepping to one side, clear of the path of the door. Another passage of silence, and then a resounding bang as the door exploded into splinters, as did one of the picture frames on Cid's desk, directly opposite of it. Cid could see through the gaping hole in his door the double barrels of a shotgun still smoking lightly. A swift movement, and the door was kicked clean off its hinges, falling to the push carpet with a soft thump and a clank.

Davis stepped into the dark room, blinking and peering as he tried to get his eyes to focus on the shadows inside. He sidled closer to Sands, at his side, whispering to his crony.

"Ya see anythin'?" Sands shook his head, eyes wide as he glanced around.

Cid felt sweat slide down his forehead into his eyes as he struggled with getting the bathroom window uncovered. He climbed up onto the toilet, careful not to make a sound, and turning his face away, slammed his shoulder and the tip of his spear through the glass, breaking it away from its frame with a crash.

The men in his bedroom, adjacent to where Cid was hiding, all turned in unison at the sound of the window shattering.

"Shit!" Reloading his gun, Davis strode through the darkness, rattling the doorknob to the bathroom with his free hand. It was locked, and with a snarl, the man stepped back, taking aim with his rifle.

Cid heard the rattle of the door and knew he only had seconds, as he tossed his spear through the window, and attempted to squeeze past all the glass shards through the tiny opening. He winced as his arms and shoulders were sliced, jagged lines of red rolling freely down his bare arms.

The resounding bang of gunfire behind him helped Cid's momentum, and he dived through the window as the lock behind him shattered.

Cid stumbled into the daylight, gasping. He'd landed roughly, and nearly on his face. He stood, shaking, kicking his spear up to his hand with a practiced movement. He spared a glance up at the window, now over his head, before darting off around the side of the house, ignoring the pain in one ankle, and the thin streaks of stinging heat crisscrossing his arms.

The gunmen in Cid's bathroom stood a moment in irritated awe as the signs of Cid's escape told volumes to them.

"Damn… he's slippery…" Sands looked around, noting lines of red dripping from some of the still-intact pieces of glass in the window.

"Shut the hell up and get moving." The four men turned and hurried out, hot on Cid's trail.

Cid took the time to tuck his spear under one arm as he ran, and pick out a few errant shards of glass from his arm.

He ignored the looks he received as he charged through town, straight down the central streets. People stood and watched in morbid wonder, as from behind, Davis and his crew came out the front of Cid's house, shouting. Several gunshots rang, but Cid kept running, and the rest of the town only stood and stared, not doing a thing. Cid gasped as one bullet struck the ground at his heels in a shower of dust, and took a flying leap into the air, clean up to a housetop, which he hopped down behind, using it as a shield.

Cid had no intention of ever returning to his home. He made his way through Rocket Town, headed for the chocobo stables, now out behind where the old ShinRa No. 26 Rocket had once stood. If he could get a bird, he could run, and run for good.

Cid's breathing came ragged as he chanced a glance up at the sky. It was clear and blue as heaven, and just begging him to fly. Cid wanted to fly more than ever now, not just for escape. It had been so long since he had truly seen the sky, opening freely in its expanse above him.

Another bang and a sharp crack of wood shattering near his head snapped Cid out of his daydream, and, pushing his aching legs to move faster, Cid piled on the speed. He coughed, vision swimming. Cid could jump to the moon and land like a cat, but he wasn't built for dead out sprints, and was even worse at prolonged running. His lungs ached in his chest, threatening to explode inside of him at any moment.

His breathing was so rough, and loud in his own ears, that Cid didn't initially hear the sound of the truck that pulled across his path ahead of him. Cid looked up, sky-colored eyes widening in shock as Michael and Sands leaped out, guns drawn.

Cid skidded to a halt, nearly falling over backwards, and darted toward the closest building as the gunfire began to rain down on him. He turned, crouched behind a large planter box, and intended to run back the way he came, maybe circle the town, or if not, just head for the hills, when another gunshot made the daises above him explode into a shower of white pedals, fluttering down around Cid.

Rolling back into a crouching position behind the large box, Cid chanced a glance around the other side of the planter, and spotted Davis and his handy little buddy, Jake, blocking his escape back through town. Cid closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing, chase away the pain from his body, and think clearly. All he could focus on was the sound of his heart hammering in his ears, and how he couldn't get his eyes to work quite right. His vision was spotted with sparks, from too much or too little oxygen, he didn't know.

The air around him suddenly roared into solid, booming sound, as the four men took turns firing at him in careful succession. Bits of the wooden box Cid was hiding behind began to chip off, and Cid knew that sooner or later, it would simply fall apart, and his cover would be gone.

Shaking, Cid steeled himself for another mad dash. It was nuts, but it was all he had, and it was a chance. Maybe if he could run into the store behind him, he could find some way out the back…

"DADDY!" Cid's eyes widened in alarm as he somehow heard the small, joyous voice call over the roar of the guns. To his right, Cid heard one of the guns stop.

"Dessie, no!" Cid swallowed as Michael cried out to his daughter, alarmed. Cid could just see around the side of the box the little girl he'd been watching earlier that day, running straight through the street in a deadline towards her father. "GUYS! WAIT--My daughter!" Michael waved, eyes wide with panic, but the others ignored him, the guns still going. "Desdemona, NO!"

Desdemona giggled, toddling towards her father, eyes brilliant blue and shining with excitement. She didn't see or understand the guns, and walked right into the line of fire, only feet from where Cid was hiding. Cid bit his lip and swallowed, his stomach feeling cold as he realized he'd come out from behind his hiding place to watch, and saw Davis level his gun right at him. Cid's eyes widened, as did, a hundred feet away, Michael's. Desdemona was directly in the line of fire, and Cid could see from here, that Davis would not hesitate to shoot both the girl and Cid, if it meant getting his target. Cid leapt just as the first bang sounded sharply in his ears. He dove, moving his body in front of the girl, a small, hopeless cry escaping his lips in a half sound, pushing her back.

Time slowed as the bullets flew, and Cid heard three distinct bangs as the guns continued to fire. It was only a half heartbeat later that he felt two of the three bullets strike him, one in the chest, the other just below the windpipe.

He staggered, gasping, and collapsed over the girl behind him, doing his best to hold himself up from flattening her, even as he watched blood ooze down his wrists as he braced himself.

The gunshots had ended, and silence rang louder than ever. Cid glanced down at the child crouching under him, then further to where blood was starting to soak through his shirt, and gave a strained, bemused laugh. It sounded distant and tinny to him.

Well, shit.Cid felt the spreading cold as he began to loose blood in earnest, a cold sweat beading his face.

The girl jumped up, oblivious to what had happened, and ran to her father. Only Cid's pain-laced gasps could be heard.

All around, people stood and stared, awed. After three years, the infamous Cid Highwind had finally gone down. Had it been appropriate, many may have cheered or clapped. As it was, nobody moved as he crouched, frozen in time, slowly bleeding to death. Michael knelt with his daughter in his arms, eyes wide, watching in silence.

Cid shivered, rolling slowly down to the ground to lie on his back. He didn't need to put a hand to his chest or collar to know he was bleeding badly. He could feel it soaking his shirt, his skin, his vision. He had the moment to appreciate the strange breathy feeling that came over him as his breathing slowed, his heartbeat laboring. Not daring to close his eyes just yet, Cid turned them upwards to the sky. It was blue and shining and in so many ways perfect. He closed his eyes tiredly and gasped as he saw the stars in the sky, twinkling and turning behind his eyelids.

He smiled. He loved the stars, oh so very much. As they turned, he could hear them sing to him, a high, siren song. Cloud had said once he could hear the stars sing to him, and Cid had never believed it, until now.

Huh.. Cloud…Tifa… Cid hoped that they would be alright. Probably. They were tough kids. Cid smiled, keeping his eyes locked on the stars overhead, even as his mind drifted. The toy airplanes he used to play with when he was little, watching birds on summer days and running after them, flapping his arms like wings, hoping that one day he would soar as easily as they. His graduation out of the flight academy, his first bar fight with his friends. Zeek and Ted, and his first girlfriend… The birth of the Highwind, and later the Tiny Bronco, and their maiden flights…Managing to get Vincent drunk off his ass…Barret, Aeris… Ric… The Rocket… Outer Space… Cid smiled as he sank back further, even the stars fading from his vision. He sighed, closing his eyes to the world, but turning as a deep, warm tingling soothed his sore and cold body. Warm wisps of glowing green light were rising out of the darkness of the universe to greet him, curling around his body like soft kisses, green sparks flying up in slow motion around him wherever they touched him.

Cid reached out, touching one of the sparks and a fresh curl of green wove around his hand, pulling gently and curling up his arm to caress his chest, neck and face. The pain he'd felt earlier melted away with each emerald kiss, and Cid sat back, slowly sinking into the brilliant green, breathing it into his body as he faded to black with the rest of existence. Oblivion.

OoOoOoOoOoO

AN: yes. its over. I don't think I've ever worked with so much negative emotions....but don't despair! (completely) I have an epilogue in mind for this that'll be /nice/... I'll post that as a seperate story all together though. watch for it. )

Ree: Still hopeless? (ducks)

Tess: You might want to rethink that tombstone thing.

This will probably be re-posted in a few days under a milder rating and a slightly different title (One-Thousand Deeds instead of the number) so that hopefully I'll get more hits on it. :) I'm down to like, 3 people reading it, lol. :) (dun blame the others, though)

Happiness to come, though. I promise. I'm going to write something, goofy, yaoish, and wet after this, lol.


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